


Than All The Treasures Of The World

by contraryGreymalkin



Series: Tales From The Vantas Fairybook [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Multi, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Terezi's blood fetish, trolls talking about troll things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contraryGreymalkin/pseuds/contraryGreymalkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Terezi's law studies take a turn for the odd, she is forced to seek help from a mysterious anonblood troll whose name, whatever it might be, is definitely not Rumpelstiltskin.  Non-Sgrub AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Than All The Treasures Of The World

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a fairytale challenge I snagged on tumblr - January's prompt was Rumpelstiltskin + turquoise. Be aware that this contains trolls saying possibly distressing things, and also any references you spot to other canons may or may not be deliberate.

GC: 1T M1GHT 4S W3LL B3 SP1NN1NG 3XCR3M3NT 1NTO GOLD!  
GC: 1 H4V3 NO 1D34 HOW 1M GO1NG TO DO 1T 4ND TH3 D34DL1N3 TO H4ND 1N MY BR13F 1S TOMORROW.  
GC: SO 1 GU3SS 1F YOU DONT H34R FROM M3 BY TH3 W33K3ND, 1 H4V3 F41L3D 4ND YOU SHOULD ST4RT LOOK1NG FOR 4 N3W MO1R41L.  
TA: 2piinniing 2hiit? ew.  
TA: that 2ound2 liike 2omethiing out of your lu2u2' creepy dream2 agaiin.  
GC: Y3S  
GC: BUT TH1S T1M3 1T W4S NOT 4 DRE4M 4BOUT US.  
GC: SH3S NOT 4CTU4LLY SUR3 TH1S ON3 M34NS 4NYTH1NG.  
TA: ok that2 a reliief.  
TA: readiing her fan fiictiion about u2 ii2 really fuckiing creepy.  
TA: no offen2e but ii really felt liike ii wa2 beiing 2talked.  
GC: H3H3H3, M4YB3 YOU 4R3! M4YB3 SH3 1S S1TT1NG OUTS1D3 YOUR TR41N1NG F4C1L1TY 4ND T3LL1NG M3 3V3RYTH1NG YOU DO! >:P  
TA: ok that2 not a2 funny a2 you alway2 seem to thiink iit ii2 and you 2hould 2top doiing iit  
TA: and no ii wont fuckiing apologii2e for that becau2e telliing you not two creep people out ii2 my offiiciial bu2iine22.  
GC: OK4Y BUT 1M PROB4BLY NOT 4CTU4LLY GO1NG TO STOP.  
GC: UNL3SS YOU W4NT TO T3LL M3 4G41N M1ST3R 4PPL3B3RRY!  
GC: <>  
TA: ok, tryiing to take advantage of me liike that iis really chiildii2h, 2o ii gue22 iit2 a good thiing iim here two tell you how chiildiish iit iis, eheheh. <>  
TA: ii thiink ii have a 2olutiion two your problem though.  
GC: OH? >:?  
TA: ye2. ii u2ed two know a guy back on alterniia, total douchebag but he wa2 actually pretty good at 2ortiing out the kiind of rom4ntiic fuckup2 you 2ay are iinvolved here.  
GC: H3H3H3, YOU 241D ROM4NT11C!  
TA: wow 2tfu 2top mockiing my quiirk and let me 2ave your fuckiing liife, okay?  
TA: that ii2 iif you want me two 2ave your liife, ii know you get weiird about that 2ometiime2.  
GC: NO, 1 DO! 1 M34N 1 DO TH1NK TH3R3 1S SOM3TH1NG WRONG W1TH TH3 UN1V3RS3 BUT 1TS NOT T1M3 FOR US TO L34V3 1T Y3T.  
GC: 4ND 1N TH3 M34NT1M3 1 H4V3 TH1S STUP1D 4SS1GNM3NT TO P4SS!  
TA: ok then iill track hiim down for you, he2 2ure two have 2ome iin2iight  
TA: but dont tell hiim ii 2aiid any of that.  
TA: now ii have two go before the 2upervii2or catche2 me talkiing to a blue.  
TA: <>  
GC: 1 4M ST1LL NOT SUR3 1F 1 R34LLY COUNT 4S 4 BLU3, BUT TH4NKS SOLLUX!  
GC: <>

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] ceased trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC] \--

Your name is Terezi Pyrope, and your life turned into something straight out of Montee Slitherbeast's Air-travelling Carnival as soon as your main midterm assignment landed on your desk. You're pretty sure you know who to blame, since you also have the worst kismesis who ever slithered out of the mothergrub's eggchute. If his sopor addiction, his ruthless carelessness, and his vicious sense of entitlement regarding the law and its application to him weren't enough for you to contend with, now he's gone and decided to play puppetmaster with your instructors again, and you're getting worried that this time he may have finally dropped you in a situation you can't get out of without his help. And for a list of reasons as long as the list of harmful chemicals on a box of Fruit Troll-Ups, you _loathe_ asking for help.

Doesn't change the fact that your chance of passing this course suddenly depends on learning some weird kind of romantic alchemy that you thought had died out when the Condesce executed the last known yenta, when everyone knows that in the psychological arena, you specialise heavy in poisons. Of course the guy who dropped you in the proverbial is the most accomplished troll you know at brewing sewerage out of sopor, both literally and metaphorically, but you'll eat your own horns, and then Pyralspite, before you admit defeat to _him_. So you wait it out at the library computer, tapping your fingers impatiently on the keyboard, until Sollux's friend shows up.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC] \--  
CG: TA SAID YOU NEED A SHIPPER.  
CG: HIS WORDS, NOT MINE, I'M NOT A SHIPPER. WHAT I AM IS AN EXPERT AT SAILING THE CHOPPY WATERS OF ROMANTIC ENDEAVOUR WHILE TACKING INTO THE WINDS OF JEALOUSY, DISINTEREST, AND MISAPPREHENDED QUADRANTS.  
CG: AND AS MUCH AS IT GALLS ME TO ADMIT IT, IT JUST SO HAPPENS I MIGHT NEED A FAVOUR FROM A LEGISLACERATOR PRETTY SOON, SO YOU'RE IN LUCK.  
GC: OH R34LLY? 1F YOU 4R3 1N TH4T K1ND OF TROUBL3 TH3N P3RH4PS YOU SHOULD CONS1D3R TH4T M4YB3 4S 4 C4D3T 1T 1S NOT 1N MY B3ST 1NT3R3ST TO M4K3 D34LS W1TH CR1M1N4LS, M1ST3R L1M3 SOD4!  
CG: ...LIME SODA? WHAT THE FUCK, SOLLUX DIDN'T TELL ME YOU WERE SOME KIND OF MENTAL DEFICIENT.  
CG: AND NO, FUCK, IT'S NOTHING LIKE THAT, DO YOU THINK I'M DUMB ENOUGH TO GO AROUND ANNOUNCING TO RANDOM LAW STUDENTS THAT I'M PLANNING TO BE CULLED FOR ILLEGAL ACTIVITIES ANY TIME SOON???  
GC: TH4TS NOT 4 V3RY GOOD 4TT1TUD3 TO SHOW TO SOM3ON3 WHOS3 H3LP YOUV3 JUST 4DM1TT3D YOU N33D!  
GC: >:[  
CG: OOH LA LA, EXCUSE MY LACK OF YOUR BLUEBLOOD ABILITY TO PRETEND I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE PERSONAL PROBLEMS OF SOMEONE I'M JUST GOING TO STAB IN THE BACK FOR FUN LATER.  
CG: WHICH, JUST TO BE CLEAR, I'M NOT GOING TO DO, BECAUSE I'M NOT A HIGHBLOODED DOUCHEBAG LIKE YOU.  
CG: NOW DO YOU WANT MY FUCKING HELP OR NOT?  
GC: 1M NOT GO1NG TO DO TH4T 31TH3R!  
GC: UNL3SS 1 D3C1D3 YOU D3S3RV3 1T, BUT TH4T W1LL D3P3ND 3NT1R3LY ON YOU! 4LSO MY BLOOD 1S OFF1C14LLY L1ST3D 4S 4QU4, TH4NKYOU V3RY MUCH, NOT TH4T 1T W1LL B3 CL4SS1F13D 4S 4NYTH1NG FOR MUCH LONG3R! BY WH1CH 1 M34N TH4T MY D34THCLOCK 1S T1CK1NG SO C4N W3 STOP 1NSULT1NG 34CH OTH3R LONG 3NOUGH TO G3T DOWN TO N3GOT14T1ONS?  
GC: WH4T 1S TH3 F4VOUR YOU N33D?  
CG: IT'S NOTHING MUCH, REALLY. YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE TO DO ANYTHING, YOU SHOULD HAVE EASY ACCESS TO THE CASE RECORDS I'M AFTER FROM YOUR CONSOLE THERE - WAIT, YOU'RE IN THE LAW LIBRARY NOW, RIGHT?  
GC: Y3S BUT TH1S 1S ST4RT1NG TO SOUND V3RY 1LL3GAL...  
CG: IT'S STARTING TO SOUND LIKE YOU WANT YOUR EXAMINER TO RIP YOUR BRAINCASE OUT OF YOUR HEAD AND BEAT YOU TO DEATH WITH IT.  
GC: ...TH4T DO3SNT S33M PHYS1C4LLY POSS1BL3 BUT OK4Y M1ST3R L1M3 SOD4 1 G3T 1T!!!  
CG: GOOD, BECAUSE REALLY IT WON'T GET YOU IN TROUBLE AT ALL, I SWEAR, I ONLY NEED ONE WORD. CAN YOU DO THAT?  
GC: ...  
GC: T3LL M3.  
CG: A DILITHIUM FREIGHTER BLEW UP OUT BY THE RIM - THE NOVASTREAM, DID YOU HEAR ABOUT IT?  
GC: 1 D1D! TH3 ONLY TROLL WHO GOT OUT OF W4S ON3 OF TH3 3NG1N33RS, H1S S4BOT4G3 TR14L JUST F1N1SH3D. WH4T DO YOU W4NT TO KNOW?  
CG: JUST THE VERDICT IF YOU CAN GET IT.  
GC: OK4Y, TH4T SHOULDNT B3 H4RD.  
CG: THANK FUCKING GOD. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME. NOW WHAT'S YOUR CASE ABOUT?

You don't really understand why you can't solve this problem yourself. There's no way any rational troll would act like the ones in this casefile, but that's never stopped you with _real_ people. Give you a hypothetical and inconsistent list of traits, aspirations and delusions with no real backstory or realistic thought processes behind it, though, and you're stumped.

Your new friend Mister Bruss3ll Sprout, though - he's a genius at this nonsense. By the time you're halfway through describing the problem, he's already sending you horribly drawn but ridiculously intricate shipping diagrams, typing unbelievably coherent essays on every character's psychological profile straight into Trollian, and predicting the romantic dynamics of characters whose existence you haven't even _brought up_ yet. You'd almost suspect this guy was in your class and Sollux was playing a prank on you, if it weren't that you know everyone's assignment was different, and also that, as good as he is at romance, he's kind of pathetically awful at comprehending legal nuance.

And if it weren't for the question of his payment. Just one word, but one it turns out you only just have clearance to get, and you're far from having the clearance to find out why. Which means you really, really shouldn't give it to him.

You've always done a lot of things you shouldn't.

*****************************

TA: eheheh ii2 that a tz ii 2ee aliive and not culled for beiing 2hiitty at relatiion2hiip2 yet?  
GC: H3H3H3, SHUT UP! >;]  
GC: Y3S 1 4M 4L1V3 4ND YOU 4R3 OFF1C14LLY P3RM1TT3D TO F33L SMUG.  
GC: BUT NOT TO S4Y 1T!  
TA: ok that2 a really weiird prohiibiitiion  
GC: W3LL SOM3ON3 H4S TO K33P YOUR 3GO FROM GROW1NG TO TH3 S1Z3 OF TH3 G4L4CT1C C3NTR3!  
TA: well ii gue22 iif that 2omeone ii2 you that2 ok  
TA: but that ii2nt really what2 on my miind at the moment.  
GC: OH?  
TA: they came back  
TA: ii thiink iit2 comiing  
GC: HOW SOON?  
TA: a few 2weep2  
TA: but ii cant 2ee beyond 2iix  
TA: that2 when theyre goiing two make me bliind liike you.  
GC: NO TH3Y 4R3 NOT!  
GC: 1 WONT 4LLOW 1T!  
TA: you cant 2top iit  
TA: iit ii2 goiing two happen and that2 iit  
TA: do you tell your lu2u2 her dream2 arent goiing two happen?  
GC: 4LL TH3 T1M3. SO YOU H4V3 NO CH4NC3 TO CONV1NC3 M3 M1ST3R 4PPL3B3RRY!  
TA: ok whatever  
TA: a2 long a2 you 2tay 2afe then ii dont actually giive a 2hiit  
TA: ju2t dont come gettiing all whiiny at me when ii am riight after all.  
GC: NO 1 W1LL B3 P3RF3CTLY R34DY TO PROT3CT MY P4L3 LOV3 L4RV4 WH3N TH3 T1M3 COM3S! JUST B3C4US3 1 H4V3 DOUBTS DO3S NOT M34N 1 DONT PR3P4R3 FOR TH3 WORST. >:[

Something in the back of your pan whispers that you won't be ready. You won't even be close. But you stopped listening to _those_ voices sweeps ago. You already lost Aradia. You're not going to lose Sollux too, no matter what the universe says.

*****************************

It turns out that on top of his weirdly splintered psychological acumen and complete legal incompetence, Mister Lime Soda always has a really annoying sense of when he's needed, because half a sweep later, when the exam incident finally gets around to blowing up in your face in a way you have to admit you _really_ didn't expect, he trolls you out of nowhere.

CG: OKAY, LISTEN TO ME REALLY REALLY CAREFULLY, PYROPE. OR LOOK, I GUESS. AT MY WORDS ON YOUR SCREEN, WHATEVER.  
GC: RUD3! 4ND ON SO M4NY L3V3LS TH4T 1 TH1NK 1 W1LL NOT TRY TO 3NUM3R4T3 TH3M 4LL BUT ONLY FOCUS ON TH3 TWO MOST 1MPORT4NT ON3S:  
GC: ON3, NO 1 C4NT S33 YOUR WORDS, 1 4M BL111111111ND YOU DUMMY!  
GC: 4ND TWO, US1NG 4 L4DYS N4M3 W1THOUT B31NG G1V3N 4 PROP3R 1NTRODUCT1ON 1S 3XTR3M3LY 1MPOL1T3 3V3N 4MONG TH3 LOW3ST C4ST3S, W3R3 YOU 3V3R SCHOOLF3D 4T 4LL?  
CG: WAIT, YOU'RE BLIND? LIKE, REALLY BLIND?  
GC: Y3S!  
CG: WOW, FUCK, I'M SORRY.  
CG: I GUESS LISTEN WAS THE RIGHT WORD AFTER ALL IF YOU'RE USING A SCREENREADER  
GC: H3H3H3 NO 1 4M NOT US1NG 4 SCR33NR34D3R, 1 C4N SM3LL YOUR T3XT. 4ND 1T SM3LLS K1ND OF S1CKLY. >:[  
GC: WHY DONT YOU TYP3 1N YOUR BLOOD COLOUR 1NST34D OF BL4ND GR3Y?  
CG: BECAUSE MY BLOOD COLOUR'S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS. AS IS MY FLEET ENTRY SCORE, SO CAN WE STOP PLAYING TROLL MISS MARPLE LONG ENOUGH TO DEAL WITH THE FACT THAT YOU NEED MY HELP AGAIN?  
CG: AND ALSO ABOUT WHAT YOU CAN DO FOR ME IN RETURN, SINCE OBVIOUSLY I'M TOO BUSY TO WASTE MY TIME RUNNING A CHARITY FOR ROMANTICALLY-CHALLENGED BULGEWADS.  
CG: I AM SORT OF A BIG DEAL ON MY SHIP, OKAY?  
GC: W3LL TH3N M1ST3R B1GSHOT 4DMIR4L, 1 4POLOG1S3 D33PLY FOR MY 1NSUBORD1N4T1ON 4ND 1 W1LL S1MPLY T3LL YOU TH4T 1 B3C4M3 CUR1OUS 4BOUT TH4T C4S3F1L3 YOU 4SK3D FOR.  
GC: SO 1 LOOK3D FOR S1M1L4R C4S3S 4ND 1 D1SCOV3R3D SOM3 V3RY 3NL1GHT3N1NG TH1NGS!  
CG: AND BY ENLIGHTENING YOU MEAN...?  
GC: SOME TH1NGS 1 THOUGHT YOU M1GHT B3 1NT3R3ST3D 1N KNOW1NG, JUST OFF TH3 R3CORD OF COURS3!  
CG: WELL  
CG: OKAY, THERE IS ONE I MIGHT BE INTERESTED IN THAT I HOPED YOU MIGHT KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT. BUT NOT IF IT'S GOING TO GET YOU CULLED, I MEAN YOU SEEMED PRETTY WORRIED ABOUT THAT LAST TIME.

His protectiveness would almost be cute if he weren't an annoying little prick hiding his low self-esteem behind an artifically inflated ego and, apparently, a fetish for mysterious engine failures. And if he didn't remind you so much of this boy you played video games with a couple of times when you were young and whose unjustified arrogance about his own skill almost drove you back to FLARPing.

GC: 1F 1 SURV1V3 TH1S R3V13W 1 W1LL TELL YOU!  
GC: 4FT3R 4LL TH4T 1S WHY YOU TROLL3D M3 1N TH3 F1RST PL4C3 M1ST3R SP34RM1NT SH4K3, SO 1 DONT TH1NK YOUR3 GO1NG TO B4CK OUT NOW, H3H3H3.  
CG: OKAY.  
CG: SO TELL ME WHAT THEY THINK IS WRONG WITH YOUR ACADEMIC RECORD.  
GC: TH3Y DONT TH1NK 4NYTH1NG 1S WRONG W1TH 1T!  
GC: BUT MY K1SM3S1S W4S H4TCH3D W1THOUT 4 KNOW1NG WH3N TO STOP GL4ND. >:[  
CG: HEH. SOUNDS KIND OF LIKE MY IDIOT MOIRAIL, BUT GO ON.

More specifically, you explain, guts churning at having to admit it, they thought your insight into the question he helped you with was too good. You knew Makara was setting you up when he got you this assignment of course (never trust a purpleblood, lesson one of basic schoolfeeding, especially when he offers you a post on a ship from which the Supreme Justice herself usually recruits) but you thought dear sweet precious Gamzee was different, you thought he was weak and loving and _innocent_ and not likely to last half a sweep in the fleet without your protection, more fool you), but you thought you'd already defused all his traps. Seems he knows you a little better than you thought, and he knows the great gap in your psychological genius, and your captain... doesn't.

GC: TH3Y W4NT M3 TO DO 1T FOR R34L! 4ND YOU 4R3 R1GHT, 1 W4S CONS1D3R1NG 4SK1NG SOLLUX TO LOOK YOU UP 4G41N. BUT H3R3 YOU 4R3 4ND 1 DONT H4V3 TO!  
CG: BUT THERE'S A CATCH ISN'T THERE? I KNOW THERE'S A CATCH, I CAN FUCKING SENSE IT.  
GC: TH3 C4TCH 1S TH4T TH3 TROLL 1N N33D OF 4DV1C3 1S MY C4PT41N, 4ND SH3 1S 4LSO 1N CH4RG3 OF 4LL MY JOURN3YTROLL 4SS3SSM3NTS! SO 1T 1S K1ND OF CR1T1C4L TH4T 1 H4V3 4 PROP3R UND3RST4ND1NG OF WH4T 1 4M T3LL1NG H3R...  
CG: OH GOD. ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ASKING ME FOR WHAT I THINK YOU'RE ASKING ME FOR?  
GC: 4 FULL COURS3 ON TH3 1NTR1C4T3 WORK1NGS OF ROM4NC3, Y3S. 1 4M GO1NG TO H4T3 1T 4S MUCH 4S YOU 4R3 GO1NG TO H4T3 T34CH1NG M3. >:[  
CG: FUCK.  
CG: HOW LONG DO WE HAVE?

He agreed to that too quickly, even if he was the one to make the offer, and when he describes the next case he's after, you pull up the site in haste, hoping it will lend some insight into his eagerness. But again, you can't get much more that what he asked for - the verdict (criminal negligence, punishable by death, just like the other), and the name of the prosecutor, and again, you don't have enough clearance to find out why you don't have clearance, and who knows what kind of unsanctioned acts of vengeance you'll be enabling by handing out classified information like this? Any reasonable observer could see that you are about to cross a line that cannot be uncrossed!

Meh.

*****************************

GC: SO 1T S33MS TH4T TH3 PROS3CUTOR 1N YOUR S4BOT4G3 C4S3 H4S R3C3NTLY M1SPL4C3D H1S H34D. 1 DONT SUPPOS3 YOU H4V3 4NY R3M4RK4BL3 1NS1GHTS TO OFF3R 4BOUT TH1S ST4T3 OF 4FF41RS?  
CG: NOT A FUCKING CLUE. EXCEPT THAT HE DESERVED IT. ARE YOU GOING TO COME AND ARREST ME FOR HAVING AN OPINION NOW, YOUR TYRANNY?  
GC: NO, 1 TH1NK 1 W1LL D3C1D3 TO B3L13V3 YOU...  
GC: FOR NOW!  
GC: THOUGH P4RTLY B3C4US3 1 H4V3 MY CONC3RNS 4BOUT H1S H4NDL1NG OF TH3 C4S3! 1F 1 3V3R N33D TO BR1NG YOU 1N, 1 PROM1S3 1 W1LL B3 MUCH MOR3 D1L1G3NT 1N YOUR PROS3CUT1ON, M1ST3R GUML34F, H3H3H3!  
GC: 1 M4Y 3V3N FORG1V3 YOU FOR 4LMOST G3TT1NG M3 CULL3D FOR 1NSUBORD1N4T1ON!  
CG: WHOA, PYROPE, IT'S NOT MY FAULT IF YOUR CAPTAIN WAS SUCH A ROMANTIC INCOMPETENT AS TO THROW OUT ALL MY GENIUS IDEAS.  
GC: OH SH3 D1D NOT! HOW3V3R SH3 W4S NOT V3RY 4PPR3C14T1V3 4T F1RST WH3N H3R BL4CK CRUSH 4TT3MPT3D TO T34R H3R H34D OFF, 4ND 1 HOP3 YOU 4R3 H4PPY 4T H4V1NG 3ND4NG3R3D US 4LL L1KE TH4T!  
CG: IT WORKED THOUGH, DIDN'T IT.  
CG: SEE WHAT YOU STILL SEEM TO BE FAILING TO UNDERSTAND IS THAT SHE WAS NEVER IN ANY DANGER BECAUSE SHE WAS FULLY UNDER THE PROTECTION OF MY GODLIKE SKILL CONCERNING ALL THINGS ROMANTIC.  
CG: AND SHE'S SAFER THAN EVER NOW IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT.  
CG: ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO START DOUBTING ME NOW THAT I JUST GOT YOUR PERVERTED CO A GODDAMN KISMESIS?  
CG: BECAUSE IF YOU ARE THEN I'M GOING TO HAVE TO REVISE MY ESTIMATE OF YOUR IQ DOWN FROM "STILL WATCHES PLAY HIVE UNIRONICALLY AND WITHOUT AN ACHING SENSE OF NOSTALGIA" TO "REGULARLY DEFEATS SHORTCRUST PASTRY IN INTELLECTUAL LIMBO CHAMPIONSHIPS".  
GC: OH MY GOD M1ST3R SL1M3 P13!!!  
GC: NO ON3 C4R3S 4BOUT YOUR STUP1D M4D3-UP R4NK1NG SYSTEM!  
CG: TOO FUCKING BAD, "C4L1BR4TOR".  
CG: BECAUSE I'M NOT  
CG: WAIT, WHAT?  
CG: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL ME???  
GC: OH NO, DO YOU H4V3 4 PROBL3M W1TH TH4T, M1ST3R B4K3D SOPOR?  
CG: 0:B  
GC: TH3N 1 4M 4FR41D 1 W1LL H4V3 TO R3M1ND TH3 3ST33M3D COUNCILLOR FROM TH3 MYST3R1OUS FOGGY JUR1SD1CT1ON WH1CH H3 R3FUS3S TO N4M3 TH4T 1 4M 3NT1TL3D TO R3V1S3 MY 3ST1M4T3 OF H1S COLOUR 4T 4NY T1M3 1 W1SH UNT1L H3 D3C1D3S TO COM3 CL34N!  
CG: MY BLOOD COLOUR IS NONE OF YOUR GODDAMN BUSINESS.  
CG: YOU MIGHT AS WELL STOP ASKING BECAUSE YOU ARE NEVER EVER GOING TO KNOW IT AND I DON'T SEE WHY YOU SHOULD.  
CG: ANYWAY I'M OUT OF HERE.  
GC: W41T!  
CG: SO YOU CAN MOCK ME SOME MORE? BECAUSE THAT'S COMPLETELY WORTH IT. OR ARE YOU ACTUALLY GOING TO ADMIT THAT THE REASON WE'RE STILL TALKING IS THAT YOU HAVE ANOTHER PROBLEM?  
GC: >:0  
GC: OH M1ST3R FOGB4NK, HOW3V3R D1D YOU GU3SS?  
CG: OH GOD. CAN YOU NOT DO THE FAKE SURPRISE THING JUST ONCE? I KNOW YOU HAVE ANOTHER PROBLEM BECAUSE IF YOU DIDN'T, YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TROLLED ME AND I GUESS IT SHOULDN'T SURPRISE ME ANYMORE THAT AFTER YOU JUST SPENT THE LAST TEN MINUTES RIPPING ON ME, YOU'RE GOING TO ASK FOR MY HELP AGAIN. SO SPILL, PYROPE. WHAT CAN YOU GIVE ME THIS TIME TO MAKE IT WORTH MY WHILE STICKING MY NECK OUT FOR YOU A THIRD TIME?  
GC: 1 4M TH3 ON3 ST1CK1NG MY N3CK OUT!  
GC: YOU 4RE S4F3LY 4ND 4NNOY1NGLY 4NONYMOUS B3H1ND 4LL FOURT33N OF SOLLUXS PROX13S!  
GC: 4ND...  
GC: TH3 TRUTH 1S TH4T 1 4CTU4LLY DONT KNOW WH4T 3LS3 1 C4N G1V3 YOU.

The problem (which you should have seen this coming, says something nagging at the back of your sponge, and mutters something you don't understand about threes in a voice that sounds awfully like your lusus) is your new partner. A troll you used to FLARP with, a vicious blueberry girl with a jealous streak and a talent for hypnosis, and a distressing disregard for the rules. The pair of you would make the perfect leads for a buddy cop movie if there weren't too much history between you, and too much blood, and besides, you already have both a kismesis and moirail. But she still gets under your skin without even trying, and you just can't keep yourself from antagonising her, and as usual she's got her cerulean sights set on one of the far-too-vulnerable lowbloods on your crew.

If you had _time_ \- time to learn her new patterns, make sense of the person she's become, you know you could settle her, and with something other than the unsubtle sword-through-the-heart technique you're afraid you'll have to use sooner or later. But another thing that hasn't changed about Vriska is that she moves fast, and therefore time is something you're burdened with a terrible lack of.

Fortunately, you've learned that when it comes to romance, your boy moves equally fast, as does his typing - in fact, he's proving to be an expert in the rapidfire typing you thought Vriska was sole mistress of - and while his answer makes as little sense as anything he's ever told you, he's known his stuff so far, and your combination of your own intuition with his borrowed knowledge worked well enough last time.

You decide to trust him, and make your move.

*****************************

The results are nauseating as hell. But when Mister Eucalyptus Oil shows up again a few perigees later, you do have to admit that no one's gotten hurt. Yet.

GC: TH3YR3 SO LOV3YDOV3Y 1TS M4K1NG M3 S1CK.  
GC: 4ND TH4T 1S 4LL YOUR F4ULT.  
GC: YOU 4R3 100% GU1LTY OF M4K1NG M3 THROW UP ON MY 3X4M P4P3R TH1S 3V3N1NG.  
GC: >:[  
CG: LOOK ON THE DARK SIDE. YOU WERE ACTUALLY FUCKING ALIVE TO THROW UP.  
GC: OH? 1S TH4T WH4T YOU S33 4S TH3 D4RK S1D3 M1ST3R P1N3 GUM?  
CG: OKAY FIRST I HAVE TO ASK: WHY ARE YOU SO GODDAMNED CONVINCED I'M A GREENBLOOD?  
CG: IS THAT SCHIZOPHRENIC NOSE OF YOURS SOMEHOW COLOURBLIND? EVEN THOUGH WE BOTH KNOW THAT QUESTION DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE BECAUSE WHO THE FUCK MIXES UP GREEN AND GREY?  
CG: I MEAN IT WOULD BE OKAY IF THAT WAS ACTUALLY TRUE, I'D ACTUALLY PREFER IT BECAUSE THEN AT LEAST ONE THING IN MY LIFE RIGHT NOW WOULD MAKE SOME SENSE.  
GC: >:?  
GC: WHY DO YOU K33P S4Y1NG TH4T?  
CG: SAYING WHAT.  
GC: 4CCUS1NG MY NOS3 OF H4V1NG M3NT4L D1SORD3RS!  
CG: WHAT? SHOW ME THE LOG WHERE I EVER CALLED YOU THAT BEFORE, BECAUSE I'M PRETTY SURE THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I EVER USED IT. NOT THAT IT'S NOT PERFECTLY DESCRIPTIVE AND FUCKING APPROPRIATE.  
GC: 1 DONT KNOW, 1 JUST H4D 4 F33L1NG TH4T YOU H4D B3FOR3?  
GC: BUT NOW TH4T 1 TH1NK 4BOUT 1T, 1 DONT KNOW WHY 1 W4NT TO C4LL YOU GR33N TH1NGS. M4YB3 B3C4US3 1 KNOW YOUR BLOOD C4NT B3 GR3Y 1 F33L  
GC: L1K3 M4YB3 1T W4S SOM3TH1NG 1 DR34M3D? OR TH4T MY LUSUS D1D, 1 DONT KNOW. BUT NOW TH4T W3R3 T4LK1NG 4BOUT 1T 1 TH1NK M4YB3 1 W4S WRONG 4ND YOU 4R3 NOT GR33N?  
CG: OOOOOKAY, TIME TO MOVE THIS TOPIC ALONG TO DEADTOWN AND TALK ABOUT THE OTHER THING I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT WHICH IS THAT MAYBE YOU'VE FORGOTTEN YOU STILL OWE ME A FAVOUR.

You know that's not the other thing he wanted to say. But you'll play along. It's only because of him that you've got time.

GC: 1 C4NT G1V3 YOU 4NYMOR3 1NFORM4T1ON THOUGH S1NC3 1TS 3X4M T1M3.  
CG: SO?  
GC: SO 4LL TH3 SYST3MS 4R3 LOCK3D DOWN 4ND 4LL M3SS4G1NG PROGR4MS 4R3 B31NG SC4NN3D FOR K3Y WORDS TO PR3V3NT CH34T1NG! HOW DONT YOU KNOW TH4T?  
CG: I JUST DON'T, OKAY??? NOT EVERY BRANCH OF THE FLEET RUNS ITS EXAMS THE SAME FUCKING WAY.

Oh yes they do. You looked over procedure for every single one and if he was in formal Fleet-training in any capacity, he'd know how the basic assessment procedures worked. In that context, his ignorance is quite fascinating! So much so that the decision to hold off on calling his bluff is almost painful.

CG: IT'S OKAY, THOUGH. I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT SINCE WE LAST TALKED AND  
CG: I ACTUALLY HAVE ANOTHER REQUEST  
CG: BUT YOU HAVE TO SWEAR TO ME ON YOUR LUSUS' BONES YOU WON'T TELL A GODDAMN SOUL.  
GC: OOOOOOH! SOOOOOO S3CR3T1V3 4ND MYST3R1OUS, M1ST3R POT4SH, 1 TH1NK 1 4M G3TT1NG 4 C4S3 OF TH3 V4POURS!  
GC: >:]  
GC: > :]  
GC: >:]  
GC: > :]  
CG: OH MY GOD.  
CG: IT'S NOTHING LIKE THAT.  
CG: YOU JUST HAVE TO PROMISE OR ELSE I'LL BLOCK YOU RIGHT NOW AND DELETE THIS ACCOUNT AND YOU'LL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN.  
GC: OH, BUT 1 4M DY1NG OF CUR1OS1TY OV3R H3R3!  
CG: ...  
GC: 4LR1GHT TH3N. 1 PROM1S3 TH4T 3V3N 1F 1 S4Y NO 1 W1LL N3V3R T4TTL3 ON YOUR S3CR3T H43MONOMYMOUS BUS1N3SS.  
GC: UM.  
GC: M1ST3R POT4SH? 4R3 YOU TH3R3?  
CG: YES.  
CG: THIS IS JUST A REALLY DIFFICULT THING FOR ME TO ASK.  
CG: AND NOT JUST FOR THE REASONS YOU'LL UNDERSTAND.  
GC: SOOO F4SC1N4T1NG! 1 TH1NK 1 M4Y 4CTU4LLY D13 OF CUR1OS1TY WH1L3 YOU B34T TH3 SHRUBB3RY TO 4 QU1V3R1NG PULP!  
CG: OKAY, HOLD YOUR FUCKING SEAHORSES, I'M GETTING TO IT.  
GC: S34HORS3S?  
CG: UH. NEVERMIND.  
CG: WHAT I WANT YOU TO DO IS...  
GC: 1S.........?  
CG: OKAY WE BOTH KNOW YOU'RE GONNA BECOME AN AWESOME LEGISLACERATOR AND HUNT DOWN LOTS OF BAD GUYS AND ORCHESTRATE THE DEMISE OF A FUCKLOAD OF THE WICKED.  
CG: I MIGHT EVEN, IF I WAS THE KIND OF DOUCHE WHO WEIRDLY FETISHISES THE EXHAUSTIVE LABELLING OF THINGS, SAY ALL THE WICKED.  
CG: ALL OF THEM.  
GC: S1111GN.  
CG: STOP THAT.  
CG: I TOLD YOU, THIS IS HARD.  
CG: ALSO, HOW DO YOU GET THAT DUMB QUIRK RIGHT EVERY TIME AND STILL MANAGE A BUNCH OF STUPID TYPOS, NO WAIT, DON'T ANSWER THAT, I'M STILL NEGOTIATING.  
GC: TH3N G3T ON W1TH 1T!  
CG: I AM!  
CG: SO WHEN YOU BECOME THIS GREAT LEGISLACERATOR, THE THING I WANT YOU TO DO IS...  
CG: OKAY, THERE'S ONE MISSION.  
CG: ONE TARGET.  
CG: YOU WON'T KNOW WHICH ONE IT IS, BUT WHEN I MESSAGE YOU AGAIN...  
CG: I WANT YOU TO LET THAT TROLL GO.  
GC: WH4T???????!!  
CG: NO, HEAR ME OUT!  
CG: I DON'T MEAN JUST LET THEM GO AND GET CAUGHT AGAIN AND GIVE UP THE CREDIT.  
CG: I MEAN GET THEM ACQUITTED.  
CG: NO MATTER WHO THEY ARE, WHAT THEY'RE ACCUSED OF, HOW MUCH EVIDENCE THERE IS AGAINST THEM,  
CG: GET THEM OFF.  
CG: PLEASE.  
GC: >:/  
GC: 4R3 YOU 4SK1NG M3 TO COMM1T TR34SON OR 1NF1D3L1TY?  
CG: NEITHER, GODDAMMIT!  
CG: I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!  
CG: AND IT'S NOT TREASON IF SHE REALLY IS INNOCENT!  
GC: "SH3"?  
CG: FUCK, NO, THAT WAS A HYPOTHETICAL, I MEANT  
CG: UH  
CG: FUCK.  
CG: JUST TELL ME CAN YOU DO WHAT I GODDAMN ASKED OR NOT?  
GC: HMM... 4R3 YOU 4 PSYCH1C M1ST3R WOODSMOK3?  
CG: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? IS THIS ANOTHER PATHETIC ATTEMPT TO TRICK ME INTO TELLING YOU MY BLOOD COLOUR AGAIN? BECAUSE OH HELL, WHY NOT? HERE I'LL TELL YOU!!!  
GC: R33334444LLY???  
CG: YES.  
CG: HERE WE GO.  
CG: MY BLOOD  
CG: IS  
CG: A BRIGHT PASTEL SHADE  
CG: OF  
CG: NONE-OF-YOUR-GODDAMN-BUSINESS.  
GC: >:[  
GC: 1 DONT KNOW WHY 1 K33P T4LK1NG TO YOU. YOUR3 NO FUN!  
GC: 1 ONLY W4NT3D TO KNOW 1F YOU C4N PR3D1CT TH3 FUTUR3, OR 1F YOUR LUSUS H4S W31RD DR34MS 4BOUT 1T SOM3T1M3S L1K3 M1N3, S1NC3 YOU S33M SO CONV1NC3D ON3 OF YOUR FR13NDS 1S GO1NG TO B3COM3 4 CR1M1N4L!  
CG: SEE I KNEW THIS WAS A BAD FUCKING IDEA. NO, I'M NOT PLANNING ANY FUCKING CRIMES, AND NEITHER ARE ANY OF MY FRIENDS, OKAY? I TOLD YOU YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND THE REASONS!  
GC: TH3N T3LL M3 WHY YOU 4R3 4SK1NG M3 TO BR34K TH3 L4W 4ND SUBV3RT TH3 S4CR3D COURS3 OF JUST1C3 FOR YOU!  
GC: 1 4M W41T1NG!  
GC: OR SH4LL 1 JUST 4SK SOLLUX TO F1ND YOU NOW 4ND 4L3RT MY SUP3R1ORS TO YOUR R3QU3ST?  
CG: YOU WERE HAPPY ENOUGH TO BREAK THE FUCKING RULES FOR ME BEFORE, WHY IS IT SUDDENLY SO HARD NOW THAT SOMEONE'S LIFE IS AT STAKE?  
CG: AND HONESTLY I DON'T KNOW.  
CG: I REALLY DON'T.  
CG: YOU COULD JUST GO ON ASSUMING I'M THE SEDITIOUS IDIOT YOU THINK I AM, TRYING TO GET AN EARLY IN WITH A PROMISING NEOPHYTE IN ORDER TO SUBVERT HER FOR SOME SORT OF INSANE REVOLUTION THAT HONESTLY I THINK WOULD NEVER FUCKING SUCCEED ANYWAY, BUT IF YOU WANTED TO DO THAT, YOU WOULDN'T BE SITTING THERE WAITING FOR ME TO EXPLAIN MYSELF.  
CG: FUCK, MAYBE YOU'RE NOT. MAYBE YOU'VE GONE OFF TO GET AN ARBITER AND YOU'RE JUST LEAVING ME HANGING TO GET A TRACE.  
CG: YOU'VE BEEN PRETTY QUIET FOR A WHILE NOW, HOW SHOULD I KNOW?  
CG: BUT REALLY I THINK YOU'RE READING ALL OF THIS AND YELLING G3T ON W1TH 1T M1ST3R DUMB-GREY-THEMED-NICKNAME-OF-THE-NIGHT.  
CG: SO MAYBE IT'S JUST THAT I KNOW THAT OUR SYSTEM IS SO FUCKED UP THAT ANYONE I CARE ABOUT COULD FIND THEMSELVES ON THE END OF YOUR NOOSE WHATEVER THEY DID, AND I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO EXPLAIN WHY I WANT SOMEONE I PITY, PLATONICALLY OR OTHERWISE, TO FUCKING LIVE A BIT LONGER.  
CG: OR MAYBE IT'S NOT FUCKING PERSONAL AT ALL AND THE REASON IS JUST THAT I THINK KEEPING A LIVING TROLL FROM BEING MURDERED FOR STUPID REASONS IS WORTH MORE THAN ALL THE GODDAMN PIRATE BOOTY SERKET CAN DREAM UP IN HER WILDEST IMAGININGS AND MAYBE I THINK THE PEOPLE WHO CAN ACTUALLY CHANGE THE SYSTEM SHOULD START CHANGING IT. MAYBE I THINK THAT IS ACTUALLY MORE IMPORTANT THAN WADING THROUGH A FUCKING SHIT RAINBOW TO GET THE RIGHT PROMOTIONS SO YOU CAN KEEP SUPPORTING PANSLICED DOUCHEFUCKS WHO THINK IT'S OKAY TO KILL EVERYONE IN FRONT OF THEM IN THE NAME OF MIRACLES BECAUSE THEY DON'T HAVE A MOTHERFUCKING CLUE WHAT A REAL MIRACLE IS.  
CG: MAYBE I EVEN STARTED HAVING THESE HORRIFIC SHITTY NIGHTMARES ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU START SHUTTING KIDS WHO'VE BEEN RAISED THINKING IT'S OKAY TO MURDER EACH OTHER IN A PRESSURE-STEAMER WITH NO ONE ELSE TO VENT THEIR RAGE ON AND MAYBE I THINK IT'S INEVITABLE THAT IF NO ONE STEPS IN TO CHANGE THINGS, THEN SOMENIGHT WHEN WE RUN OUT OF PLANETS TO CONQUER, OUR WHOLE SPECIES IS GOING TO END UP THAT WAY AND IF YOU AND SOLLUX ARE BOTH TELLING THE TRUTH ABOUT YOUR OWN VISION SHIT THEN I AM SHOCKED YOU CAN'T SEE THAT COMING.  
CG: MAYBE I AM A FUCKING EMERGENT PSYCHIC LIKE YOU THOUGHT AND I JUST SOMETIMES KNOW I'M GOING TO NEED SHIT EVEN IF I DON'T KNOW WHY OR WHEN.  
CG: OR MAYBE THE REASON IS I'M JUST A MENTALLY UNSTABLE ROMANTIC SAVANT WITH A FETISH FOR RESCUING PEOPLE, DO YOU THINK THAT'S IT, PYROPE??? BECAUSE I THINK THAT'S PROBABLY IT!!

You hold your breath, letting his unbelievable naivety melt on your tongue. You're actually kind of impressed, even if he is a traitor and conspirator... and really really awful at it.

GC: ...OK4Y.  
CG: I MEAN IT'S NOT LIKE ANY OF US ARE  
CG: WAIT, WHAT?  
GC: I S41D OK4Y!  
GC: DONT TRY TO T3LL M3 YOU H4V3 GON3 BL1ND TOO, 1 KNOW 1T 1S NOT CONT4G1OUS!  
CG: YOU'LL REALLY DO IT?  
GC: Y3S 1 W1LL R34LLY DO 1T, TH4T 1S WH4T "OK4Y" M34NS.  
GC: BUT 1 4M ST4RT1NG TO TH1NK TH4T YOU WONT L1V3 LONG 3NOUGH TO 4SK, YOU DONT S33M L1K3 YOU 4R3 R34LLY CUT OUT FOR TH1S CLO4K 4ND D4GG3R STUFF.  
GC: YOU 4R3 K1ND OF L1K3 M1SS BLU3B3RRY OR4NG3 TH4T W4Y, SH3 JUST C4NT B3 SUBTL3 4T 4LL!  
GC: B3TW33N YOU 4ND M3 1 TH1NK SH3 1S 4 L1TTL3 BROK3N 1N TH3 H34D.  
CG: HAHAHA, TELL ME ABOUT IT. SHE KEEPS COMING TO ME WITH ALL THESE SCHEMES TO GET TO YOU AS THOUGH I'D ACTUALLY HELP, AND THEN GETS ALL SNOTTY WHEN I HAVE TO TELL HER NONE OF THEM WILL ACTUALLY WORK.  
GC: HOW LONG H4V3 YOU B33N T4LK1NG TO H3R?  
CG: A FEW PERIGEES, I GUESS? SOLLUX GAVE HER MY HANDLE LIKE THE INSUFFERABLE PRICK HE IS, 4ND I'D BLOCK HER BUT I KIND OF LIKE SHOOTING DOWN HER PLOTS.  
CG: IT'S SATISFYING IN A WEIRD WAY.  
GC: HMM... 1S 1T L1K3... 4 ROM4NT1C W4Y?  
CG: OHHHHH FUCK, LOOK AT THE TIME, IT'S TEN PAST NONE-OF-YOUR-BUSINESS AND I HAVE TO GO PUNCH OUT A GODDAMN DOLPHIN.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has ceased being trolled by gallowsCalibrator [GC] \--

Huh. You guess Vriska really _can't_ beat you without the help of a psychic. You don't know why you're disappointed, you got over her sweeps ago. Or at least you think you did. The ways of hate are mysterious and annoying, and they never run smooth even when their roadblocks don't include drooling juggalos and bright neon pirates.

*****************************

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA] \--

GC: SOLLUX I H4V3 4 F4VOUR TO 4SK!  
TA: wow tz thii2 ii2 really not the tiim3  
TA: kiind of iin the miiddle of 2omethiing iimportant  
TA: and by iimportant ii mean ii am tryiing not to cra2h iinto a dozen naked 2iingulariitiie2  
GC: WOW.  
TA: do you have any iidea how hard that ii2 when you cant fuckiing 2ee any accretiion dii2k2 to fly away from?  
GC: NO BUT I 4M GU3SS1NG TH4T 1T 1S V3RY H4RD 1ND33D 4ND 1 W1LL R3COMM3ND YOU FOR 4 COMM3ND4T1ON 4S SOON 4S YOU T3LL M3 TH3 N4M3 OF YOUR SH1P!  
TA: very funny tz ii am laughiing wiith all of my nonexii2tent voiice  
TA: (but 2eriiou2ly niice try ii appreciiate iit)  
GC: OKAY, SORRY. I ST1LL W4NT TO KNOW, 1 TH1NK 1 SHOULD B3 4LLOW3D S1NCE 1 4M TH3 ON3 WHO K33PS YOU FROM W4RP1NG 1NTO TH3 SUN 3V3RY T1M3 YOU G3T UPS3T.  
TA: oh my god keep your voiice down!  
GC: H3H3H3 DONT WORRY SOLLUX. 1 W1LL NOT S4Y 4NOTH3R WORD 4BOUT OP3R4T1ION DUSTSTORM! <>  
GC: 4ND 1 PROM1S3 TH1S W1LL B3 V3RY F4ST!  
GC: 1 JUST W4NT TO KNOW WH3R3 C4RC1NO 1S, 1 N33D H1S H3LP 4G41N BUT H3 H4S BLOCK3D M3!  
TA: uh yeah he 2aiid he doe2nt want to talk to you or vk diirectly  
TA: 2omethiing about 2tayiing off the radar although ii told him 2tayiing iin contact wiith me iin that ca2e wa2 kiind of a 2tupiid plan  
TA: he2 kiind of a 2tupiid guy though  
TA: anyway he al2o 2aiid he thought thii2 miight happen 2o ju2t dump your me22age in a txt file and put it in my junk folder  
TA: iill get you an an2wer when 2pace 2top2 feeliing liike a 2paghettii pretzFUCK  
TA: GOTTA GO 2EE YOU LATER <>

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] is unavailable!--

Okay, that was a lot more intense than usual. And you hope you didn't just set off a premature ignition of Operation Duststorm by distracting your pale boyfriend at a crucial moment. Your romantic problems seem kind of weak next to his issues, given that, but you type them up anyway and drop them into the aforementioned junk folder of a ship whose registration he's only ever allowed you to read the first characters of. Then you go get a coffee and try not to think about it.

A few hours later, your station beeps at you. You've got an answer from Sollux, a compressed blip of data that decompresses into a message from his hatefriend, and you open it eagerly. The first half, unsurprisingly, is a whole lot of ranting about stupid helmsmen with no sense of timing and that's what they get for being so good at programming, their brains cut open and everything actually useful pulled out, and someone, you think, has got a crush, and maybe gravitational stress isn't the only thing tearing at your palemate right now either. The second half is what you asked for, a file of personal abuse/advice (why isn't there a word for that, you wonder? abvice? advuse?) for you and one for Vriska, and knowing how far she's suddenly in the loop makes you feel all kinds of unwelcome feelings, but you pass the other file on dutifully.

*****************************

The following quiet lasts sweeps longer than you deserve it to. You settle into a not-quite-comfortable rhythm with Vriska, fighting over grubflakes and paint colours and the nature of right and wrong and which of you CG hates more, and when it gets bad you have a word to Sollux and he'll be back with a message from your mysterious advisor never less than five seconds before you're ready to give in and just rip her throat out.

Mostly, time just passes, one moment leading to another as it always must. Your lusus dies in a freak accident, and you suspect sabotage, but you can't prove anything, and you burn with tears you refuse to shed. Sollux's visions cease, replaced by dreams of numbers and bosons and electron flows, and the universe darkens around you, but he was wrong, it's not time yet and besides, you're going to get him out. You get promoted, and promoted, and promoted, Vriska alongside you, and each time you feel a little less content and her smile smells a little emptier.

You forget to research CG's cases, too busy with your own by the time you have enough clearance, and besides, you have drones to worry about, not to mention a clown with far too great a love of sabotaging your prosecutions. When you finally go to confront him, he finds your rage predictably hilarious and whatever's hiding underneath you can't quite get at, even when you lay pail-drained in his arms and cut imaginary precedents into his skin with your claws and don't ask if he'd still take you seriously enough to hate you if you were a few degrees greener.

You're not even surprised that it's not from him you hear rumours of trouble in the Mirthful Church - instead it's Vriska who's squabbling with you over who took the last of the humbugs (it was her, you know it was her, she has a sneaky love for the teal-cherry ones) when the biggest case of your life suddenly drops into your lap.

It takes a while to piece it together: the first victims are a pair of dead cardinals, and the church is reluctant to talk, especially to a troll as low as you, and even Gamzee claims to be out of the loop, though his exact wording suggests he's under a gag order and probably spilling his loathsome guts to someone else in a sticky pile of Faygo-drenched horns. (You spare a moment of platonic pity for whatever poor bastard was stupid enough to get stuck in his diamond. But only a moment, the fool clearly brought it on themselves.) Even Carcino's uncharacteristically reticent about giving his usual uninformed-yet-adorably-ranty opinion, which leaves you stuck in the middle with nowhere to start but half a corner-piece. Hell of a way to solve a jigsaw, but the Scourge Sisters' have a reputation for a reason, and within a couple of perigees and your boy helping you both keep focussed, you're starting to get a whiff of the full outline, and it's so beautiful it makes you giddy. Ritual murders, anti-Imperial blood cults, casteist riots, mysterious symbols cut into the bodies - religious conspiracy hand in hand with full-out lowblood revolution, and you're too busy to think about your promise, or your boy's continuing silence on Trollian, or wonder what will happen when he finally breaks it.

When he does, you think: you should have known. Because just like so many of _his_ stories, it begins with a girl.

*****************************

You catch the greenblood on the Jasprian nebula's edge, about to drop off the map, and you think the rebels have gotta be desperate, gotta be _low_ , if the highest-blood courier they can get is a green, and Vriska reels her in easy, shaking with a frustrated need to hiss and spit as she appears on the pad but allowing herself to be bound and marched to a cell without resistance. Turns out actually interrogating Nepeta Leijon isn't nearly so easy. Trouble with religious fanatics is they don't scare, and trouble with cat-trolls is they're wily, and trouble with roleplayers, as you and Vriska both remember, is they build up stories in their sponges that resonate like truth, and you learn pretty fast that Nepeta Leijon is all of these, not to mention quick to fall back on the soldier's mantra - name, rank, hue - soon as she gets bored with stinking up the air with deceit.

And in hindsight it will strike you as utterly predictable that as soon as her litany begins to develop an air of desperation, as soon as you begin to _get_ somewhere, your boy would finally open his mouth.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC] \--  
GC: OH MY GOD.  
CG: OKAY LET'S NOT PRETEND YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO SAY.  
CG: JUST LET HER GO AND WE'RE DONE.  
GC: YOU H4V3 GOT TO B3 K1DD1NG M3!  
CG: WHY WOULD I BE KIDDING YOU? COME ON, YOU AGREED TO THIS ALREADY, I'M JUST CALLING IN MY GODDAMN MARKER, STOP BEING STUPID.  
CG: I KNOW WHAT YOU THINK YOU'VE GOT NEPETA IN FOR, BUT SHE DIDN'T DO IT. WHOEVER KILLED THOSE PANROTTED BULGELICKERS, IT WASN'T HER, WASN'T ANYONE I FUCKING KNOW, SO JUST DECLARE HER INNOCENT, STAMP HER RELEASE AND YOU'RE OFF THE HOOK, DEBT PAID, IT'S THAT FUCKING SIMPLE.  
GC: R34LLY? NOW TH4T 1S 4 V3RY 1NT3R3ST1NG W4Y TO PHR4S3 YOUR D3F3NS3 M1ST3R GR4SSHOPP3R!  
CG: OH GOD, PLEASE TELL ME WE'RE NOT STILL PLAYING THESE WRIGGLER GAMES.  
GC: OH NO, TH3 ONLY ON3S PL4Y1NG G4M3S H3R3 4R3 YOU 4ND M1SS L31JON. 4ND YOU AR3 PL4Y1NG V3RY B4DLY.  
GC: T3LL M3 M1ST3R B4N4N4 SPL1T, WHY WOULD YOU 4SSUM3 1 THOUGHT YOU W3R3 P3RSON4LLY 4CQU41NT3D W1TH TH3 K1LL3R?  
CG: OKAY FIRST OF ALL CAN WE STOP WITH THE CUTESY FOOD-NICKNAME SHIT, YOU'VE OBVIOUSLY SCRAPED EVERYTHING THERE IS TO SCRAPE IN THAT BARREL AND YOU ARE PULLING UP SPLINTERS.  
CG: UNLESS SOMEHOW YOUR STUPID NOSE MISSED THE MEMO THAT BANANAS ARE YELLOW, DIPSHIT.  
CG: NOT GREEN.  
CG: NOT GREY.  
GC: YOUR3 4BSOLUT3LY R1GHT! R1P3 B4N4N4S 4R3 N31TH3R GR33N NOR GR3Y, JUST L1K3 YOUR BLOOD! >;]  
CG: OKAY NO.  
CG: WE ARE NOT PLAYING THE "WHAT COLOUR IS CG'S BLOOD" GAME AGAIN, IT WAS INTRUSIVE AND TEDIOUS ENOUGH THE FIRST TIME.  
GC: OH?  
GC: >:0  
GC: BUT W3 N3V3R PL4Y3D TH4T G4M3!  
CG: WHAT, YES WE DID YOU WERE ALWAYS GUESSING VARIOUS SHADES OF GREEN AND MAKING FUN OF ME FOR REFUSING TO TELL!  
GC: NO.  
GC: 1 W4S JUST TRY1NG OUT V4R1OUS FOODSTUFFS BUT NON3 OF TH3M SOUND3D SUFF1C13NTLY D3L1C1OUS TO B3 MY MYST3R1OUS 4ND 4MB1GUOUSLY S3D1T1OUS B3N3F4CTOR!  
GC: BUT NOW TH4T YOUR TR34CH3RY 1S NO LONG3R 4MB1GUOUS 1 TH1NK TH4T W3 SHOULD PL4Y TH1S N3W G4M3 YOU SUGG3ST3D.  
GC: 1T SOUNDS MUCH MOR3 FUN TH4N 4NYTH1NG W3 H4V3 B33N DO1NG SO F4R!  
CG: OH MY GOD.  
CG: HAHAHA, THIS IS AMAZING. I HONESTLY THOUGHT OF THE TWO OF YOU, VRISKA WOULD SNAP FIRST, BEING A PSYCHO HIGHBLOOD AND ALL.  
CG: PLEASE TELL ME YOU DON'T ACTUALLY THINK I'LL TELL YOU EVEN IF YOU GUESS IT, WHICH YOU WON'T.  
CG: BECAUSE I'LL TELL YOU HOW THIS GAME IS GOING TO GO, TEREZI - YOU'LL GUESS ALL TEN COLOURS, I'LL SAY NO TO THEM ALL INCLUDING THE ONE I ACTUALLY AM, AND YOU'LL FUCKING LOSE.  
GC: OH NO 1 DO NOT TH1NK YOU W1LL DO TH4T, M1ST3R R34D1NG R41NBOW.  
CG: AND WHY THE FUCK NOT?  
GC: 4R3 YOU FORG3TT1NG TH4T 1 H4V3 YOUR FR13ND?  
GC: OR M4YB3 1 SHOULD S4Y "FUR13ND"!  
CG: ...  
CG: OH GOD. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.  
GC: H4V3 1? 1 4M 4N OFF1C3R OF TH3 L4W 4ND YOU 4R3... R3M1ND M3 WH4T YOU 4R3 4G41N? OH Y3S TH4TS 1T - YOU 4R3 4 LOWBLOOD TR41TOR!  
CG: HAHAHA, THIS IS SUCH A FUNNY JOKE, TEREZI, OKAY, I'LL ADMIT YOU MIGHT HAVE GOT ME FOR A SECOND, BUT IT'S TIME TO STOP NOW, OKAY?  
GC: 1 WOND3R JUST HOW CLOS3 YOU 4ND M1SS L31JON 4R3! W1LL SH3 GO 4LL W1BBLY WH3N 1 GO 1N TH3R3 4ND M3NT1ON YOUR N4M3, 1 WOND3R?  
CG: OH GOD. YOU'RE ACTUALLY SERIOUS.  
GC: 1 WOND3R 1F YOU 4R3 TH3 K1TTY SH3 C4LLS FOR 1N H3R SL33P? DO YOU PURR WH3N SH3 SCR4TCH3S YOUR NUBBY L1TTL3 HORNS?  
CG: SHUT UP.  
CG: JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP.  
CG: WE HAD A FUCKING DEAL!  
CG: I DID EVERYTHING YOU ASKED!  
CG: I FUCKING SAVED YOU!  
GC: YOU M4D3 4 D34L W1TH 4 D3SP3R4T3 C4D3T W1TH NOTH1NG TO LOS3!  
GC: NOW YOU 4R3 4SK1NG 4 M3MB3R OF TH3 CRU3LL3ST B4R TO 4B4NDON TH3 PURSU1T OF JUST1C3 4ND 4LLOW OUR GLOR1OUS 3MP1R3 TO B3 THROWN 1NTO CONFUS1ON 4ND 4N4RCHY, 4ND 1 C4NNOT 4LLOW TH4T.  
CG: BUT I TOLD YOU SHE'S INNOCENT!  
GC: 1S TH4T SO?  
CG: HAVE I EVER ONCE FUCKING LIED TO YOU?  
GC: H3R C4PTUR3 H4S NOT B33N R3PORT3D. TH3 ONLY P3OPL3 WHO KNOW W3 H4V3 H3R 4R3 MY CR3W 4ND, 1F TH3Y H4V3 SUFF1C13NT POW3RS OF D3DUCT1ON, TH3 TR41TORS SH3 WAS FLY1NG TO M33T.  
GC: 4ND Y3T YOU M3SS4G3D M3 W1TH1N HOURS TO B3G H3R R3L34S3!  
GC: NOT TO M3NT1ON YOU H4V3 SPOK3N OF TH3 V1CT1MS 1N 4 TON3 TH4T SUGG3STS YOU 4R3 NOT UNHAPPY TO S33 TH3M GON3.  
GC: YOUR GU1LT 1S CONF1RM3D, M1ST3R R41NBOW.  
GC: 1F YOU W1SH FOR 31TH3R OF YOU TO L1V3, YOU W1LL PL4Y 4LONG.  
GC: DO NOT FORG3T WHO HOLDS TH3 4LL3G14NC3 OF TH3 B3ST H4CK3R 1N TH3 FL33T!  
GC: 1F YOU DO NOT 4GR33 TH3N 1 W1LL F1ND YOU.  
GC: 1 W1LL F1ND YOU 4ND 1 W1LL T13 YOU 4ND YOUR G1RLFR13ND TO FLOGG1NG JUTS 4ND FORC3 34CH OF YOU TO W4TCH 4S 1 H4V3 MY OFF1C3RS R1P OUT TH3 OTH3RS L4RG3 1NT3ST1N3 4ND 1 W1LL 34T TH3M.  
GC: SHOULD 1 ST4RT T4K1NG B3TS ON WH4T YOU W1LL T4ST3 L1K3?  
CG: OH MY GOD.  
GC: M4YB3 YOU W1LL T4ST3 L1K3 SW33T OL1V3S L1K3 YOUR G1RLFR13NDS PUMP B1SCU1T!  
GC: OR M4YB3 YOU 4R3 4 B1T LOW3R TH4N TH4T.  
GC: M4YB3 YOU AR3 YUCKY MUST4RD, OR SMOOTH D1SHON3ST CHOCOL4T3.  
GC: OR M44444YB3...  
GC: M4YB3 YOU 4R3 D3L1C1OUS R3D.  
GC: TH3 LOW3ST OF TH3 LOW.  
GC: M4YB3 YOU 4RE DY1NG 4LR34DY 4ND 1T W1LL B3 4 M3RCY K1LL!  
GC: H3H3H3.  
GC: 1 W1LL F1ND OUT, D3L1C1OUS L1TTL3 L14R.  
GC: 1 W1LL F1ND OUT YOUR COLOUR 4ND TH3N 1 W1LL F1ND YOU.  
CG: OH GOD  
GC: NOW T3LL M3 YOU W1LL PL4Y.  
CG: ALRIGHT.  
CG: I'LL PLAY YOUR STUPID GAME.  
CG: BUT WHEN YOU LOSE, YOU TURN HER OVER, YOU FUCKING SWEAR BY YOUR PRECIOUS JUSTICE!!!  
GC: H3H3H3, SO N33DY. OK4Y. 1F 1 C4NT SN1FF OUT YOUR COLOUR W1THOUT CUTT1NG YOU OP3N TH3N 1 W1LL L3T YOU BOTH GO. BUT WH3N 1 DO F1ND OUT YOUR MYST3RY BLOOD 1T 1S 4LL M1N3 4ND YOU W1LL SURR3ND3R W1THOUT R3S1ST4NC3!  
GC: 1 W1LL 3V3N G1V3 MYS3LF 4 H4ND1C4P 4ND CONF1N3 MY 1NV3ST1GAT1ONS TO TH3 THR33 N1GHTS B3FOR3 W3 R3TURN TO IMP3R14L SP4C3, DO3S TH4T SOUND F4IR?  
CG: ...YES.  
GC: H3H3H3, GOOD BOY.  
GC: 4ND JUST SO YOU KNOW, 1F YOU DO NOT SHOW UP ON TROLL14N FOR OUR G4ME S3SS1ONS 3V3RY N1GHT, 1 W1LL H4V3 VR1SK4 COR3 OUT M1SS L31JONS P4N. UND3RSTOOD?  
CG: FUCK YOU.  
CG: I'M NOT THE ONE WHO DOESN'T PLAY FAIR, REMEMBER?

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC] \--

You're smiling as you close the window and head out to the cells, imagining his bowed head, his slumped shoulders, his listless fingers on the keyboard. All you need to complete the picture is the exact defeated hue of his eyes.

The three-night deadline doesn't give you much time, but you have at least two other witnesses to grill on this new topic, and one's conveniently laid out on the slab for you already. You think you'll save him for round two, and go for Leijon instead.

Of course you do your prep first. You don't think he's a highblood, he says load gaper and ablution trap and claims to sign his reports with an ink splurter instead of a fountain pen, all part of the charming lowblood vernacular your ex-captain always found so loathsome, and there's a strong aroma of sincerity in his disdain for blues, one that doesn't stink of Makara's puppeteer smugness or Feferi's unexamined condescension. Green or lower, then, but he's never shown any sign of the psychic powers so typical of lowbloods, and jade and olive still just don't sit. You're not sure why you assumed he was green to begin with. Which seems to leave...

...nothing. A great big puzzle with half the pieces missing, pieces you might find bits of later around the hive, chewed up and charred, completely useless for anything but lining the nest of your very nonapologetic lusus. If you still had one.

What you do have are the casefiles for the trials he asked you about, way back when, and it's _fascinating_ how both defendants seemed to have revolutionary sympathies even though they were found guilty of negligence rather than sabotage, and how the prosecutor of the second case was found bleeding out from claw wounds in his throat only three seasons after you gave out his name. Claws like the ones you just confiscated from Miss Leijon.

It's thus armed that you march into the interrogation room next evening, to find Leijon spouting her litany. "Leijon, Nepeta, 2nd Lieutenant, 4166-" Your cane snaps out and whacks her across the horn, leaving her senses reeling, and your voice follows your hands' lead before she can pick up her slack.

"New topic, Miss Mintykitty! Tonight we're going to talk about..." you lean in, showing her the full spread of your teeth, "your friend Carcino!" She twitches, and there, now you've got her, stupid girl, even more stupid boy, never leave yourself a hostage and he just barged in and dumped them both at your feet, tied up in a bow, soon as you figure out how to undo his clumsy knots. "He is your friend, isn't he? Or maybe _more_ than a friend?" Got to space the questions properly, a long enough beat to let her feel the return of the awful silence she's come to expect from you, before each verbal slap. "Moirail? ...Matesprit?" Another flinch, and _oh, Mister Anon_ , you think, _you really are so very very stupid_ , but you have one more word to slap her with: "Messiah?"

She goes still with a shiver, and you chuckle. "Leader, then. I never would have guessed... my little matchmaker is a warmblood supremacist! How fascinating!"

"No!" And there it is, give her something big enough to contradict and even a kitty as stubborn as this one can't resist.

"He doesn't care about blood. He doesn't think it should mean anything, and I don't either. We didn't kill those highbloods."

Interesting. Most trolls you've seen commit crimes as vicious as hers become eager to talk once it sinks in that they're not getting away - either proud of how much they've been able to get done before being caught, or desperate to know you have their story straight, their only shot at being remembered. Pleading innocence after several rounds of torture is... unusual, to say the least. If you were to say a bit more, which you won't, it might even be troubling. (Vriska's looking worriedly at her in a way that suggests agreement, although it could just be because you left her in here alone with Leijon with four hours before you came in - that olive-soaked mantra makes even you dizzy to listen to for too long, and ironically for a mind-controller, Miss Blueberry doesn't quite match your mental fortitude.)

"And what will he say when he comes for you, do you think?"

She laughs, quick and harsh, green eyes focussed on you on a way that's starting to smell unnervingly familiar. "You seem to have an inside line, so you tell me, Officer Purrope!"

"Alright, I'll play along!" You take the other seat at last, lay your cane over your knees, and grin. "I think he'll definitely come for you, your little messiah boy. He'll come believing he has a secret, something I can't possibly guess, something that will force me to let you both go. But he'll be wrong."

She's frowning now, consternation wafting from her like a fine mint cocktail. "Is that what you're asking me for? A superprowlerful weapony secret? Beclawse I don't know one."

"And if you did, you wouldn't tell me, I know. You've lasted impressively long against Miss Serket, in fact, for a lowblood!" The word tastes sour as it leaves your mouth. You're nearly a lowblood too, to Vriska, to Gamzee, to the very priests whose murders you're so zealously seeking to... avenge? No, nothing so personal as that. You take your discontent out on your prisoner, an aimless shot through a smokescreen. "I wonder if he would last as long!"

She hisses in alarm, and Vriska cackles suddenly, and you nod to her, _good, keep going_ , and feel your skin warm with triumph. There's always a crack. _No exceptions._

" _Very_ low, then," is all you say as you get up. "Thankyou, Miss Leijon. That narrows the field nicely."

You feel an unwelcome twinge as you leave her to Vriska's tender justice, or what passes for it. Letting Miss Blueberry find the answer for you sounds too much like cheating, though the more fool him if he's let someone who's seen his blood fall into your hands. Really, though. Even if she hasn't, letting his _matesprit_ be courier? How disappointing.

*****************************

It's only afterwards that you realise what was so familiar about her look. It smelt just the same as your boy's words when he sorts out your tangles.

She was _shipping_ you. With who or what, you'd rather not think. 

*****************************

You spend the rest of the night poring over fleet databases. You're well familiar with his skillset by now, and to have survived this long, he _must_ have at least enlisted, but all the lowbloods the display shows are counsellors, and you really don't see him lasting long in that role - call the wrong highblood "fuckass" and he'd be bleeding out in his office. You still your breath, hold the scent of the numbers and names in your nostrils, tapping your fingers on the edge of the keyboard. What else do you know about him? He has some kind of rivalry going on with Sollux, you can tell that much from the way they both talk about each other. And has had for sweeps. Which means...

The cursor stares back at you, wavering in your nose, for a second more, before you take a breath and type in "hacker".

*****************************

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC] \--  
CG: OKAY, I'M HERE. ANSWERING YOUR GODDAMN SUMMONS, NOT THAT IT'LL DO YOU ANY GOOD.  
CG: I KNOW YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A SHADOW OF A SCENT OF A CLUE WHAT COLOUR I BLEED AND YOU'RE NOT GOING TO FIND OUT IN THE DATABASE.  
GC: 1 TH1NK YOU SHOULD L34V3 TH3 TRUTH OF TH4T TO M3, M1ST3R T1G3RFRU1T!

Tigerfruit is an Alternian delicacy, one that grows near your hive during the second autumn, yellow-flowered and grey-skinned and orange-fleshed, filled with juice of sweet sweet red. Appropriate enough, you figure, for your delicious lowblooded puzzle.

CG: OKAY SO YOU FIGURED OUT I'M A LOWBLOOD, THREE ZILLION POINTS FOR DEDUCTION THERE, SHERLOCK!  
CG: HONESTLY THAT'S NOT SO FUCKING HARD.  
GC: HMM.  
GC: YOU 4R3 V3RY QU1CK TO CONC3D3 TH4T 1NFORM4T1ON!  
GC: 1 HOP3 YOU 4R3 NOT N4RROW1NG TH3 F13LD FOR M3 OUT OF P1TY. I DONT TH1NK 1 4M R34DY FOR OUR R3L4T1ONSH1P TO T4K3 SUCH 4 TURN!  
CG: UM.  
CG: WOW.  
CG: I REALLY THINK YOU SHOULD GO TALK TO SOLLUX ABOUT THESE DELUSIONS, LIKE I SAID THAT'S NOT FUCKING HARD TO FIGURE OUT, I'D HAVE TO BUMP YOU DOWN TO "CAN'T WIN A RIGGED POKER GAME AGAINST A COLOURBLIND FORK" IF YOU HADN'T SO I'M NOT "CONCEDING" ANY GODDAMN THING AT ALL HERE. ALSO I PROMISE YOU THAT IN NO UNIVERSE THAT EVER HATCHED OUT OF THE HORRORTERRORS' BLACK SCREAMING SPHINCTER WOULD I EVER FEEL ANY SHADE OF PITY FOR YOU.  
CG: NOT EVEN PLATONIC.  
GC: H3H3H3, N1C3 TRY, BUT 1 4LR34DY KNOW YOU 4R3 NOT A D3VOT33 OF TH3 SQU4MOUS SP34K3R, 4ND PR3T3ND1NG TO B3 ON3 W1LL NOT S4V3 YOU! >;]  
CG: OH FUCK NO. LIKE I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE OUTER GODS AND HOW MANY NOODLY APPENDAGES THEY USE TO MILK THEIR INDESCRIBABLE SPLOOGE OF BLACK LIQUID SORROW OUT OF THEIR STUPID FUCKING CLOWN-PAINTED SQUIDDLY BONE BULGES.  
CG: I AM, IF YOU MUST KNOW, A DEVOUT MEMBER OF THE REFORMED EXISTENTIALIST CHURCH OF WHO-GIVES-A-FLYING-FUCK.  
GC: TH4T MUST B3 H4RD!  
GC: B31NG SUCH 4 F13RC3 4GNOST1C 4ND Y3T H4V1NG P3OPL3 WORSH1P YOU L3FT 4ND R1GHT!  
CG: THIS AGAIN?  
CG: THEY DON'T FUCKING WORSHIP ME.  
CG: AND IF THEY DID, I WOULDN'T TELL THEM TO GO AROUND MURDERING HIGHBLOODS FOR ME.  
CG: NOW ARE YOU GOING TO PICK A COLOUR OR ARE WE JUST GOING TO SQUABBLE OVER RELIGION ALL MORNING, BECAUSE I CAN. REALLY. THE SUBJECT IS SO GODDAMN FASCINATING AND I AM NOT AT ALL BURNT OUT ON IT FOREVER AND FOREVER, PARADOX WITHOUT END.  
GC: SO 1MP4T13NT!  
GC: >:[

You throw out some codes, all of the mustard and brown ones for which your search pulled up more than three trolls each, before he proclaims that guessing randomly is fucking stupid and absconds. You wouldn't let him go so early, but he has a point = his life, and his matesprit's, are at stake. He's not going to concede for a close _guess_. You've got to be more precise.

Time to use your second resource.

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA] \--

GC: 1 KNOW YOU 4R3 GO1NG TO B3 4NNOY1NG 4ND C4G3Y 4BOUT TH1S.  
GC: B3C4US3 YOU H4V3 PROM1S3D M1ST3R R41NBOW YOU WOULD B3 FOR SOM3 R34SON.  
GC: BUT 1 DONT H4V3 4 LOT OF T1M3 SO 1 N33D YOU TO JUST T3LL M3 4S MUCH 4S YOU C4N T3LL M3!  
GC: 4T L34ST G1V3 M3 4 PL4C3 TO ST4RT LOOK1NG!  
GC: SOLLUX?  
GC: SOLLUX 4R3 YOU TH3R3?  
2Y2T3M M3224G3: u2er "twinArmageddons" not regii2tered  
SM: plea2e try your reque2t agaiin

Oh.  
God.  
No.

He was his friend. He couldn't have. They _couldn't_ have.

You keep trying, your pump throbbing so loud you think it's going to break your thorax open, but all you get is the autoresponder, cold and electrical - the voice of the ship. You still don't even know which one.

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG] \--  
GC: YOU B4ST4RD.  
GC: 1F YOU SOLD H1M OUT TO S4V3 YOUR OWN H1D3  
GC: 1F YOU H4D 4NYTH1NG TO DO W1TH TH1S  
GC: 1 W1LL T34R OUT YOUR CHUT3 4ND US3 1T 4S 4 STR4W WH1L3 1 DR1NK YOUR D3L1C1OUS CH3RRY-FL4VOUR3D BLOOD.

Cherry-flavoured? You wonder why you typed that. No one's blood is cherry. No troll ever hatched has had cherry cough syrup running through their veins, that's not even a thing. It feels like another dream, but that's not possible, not without _her_ here to whisper them to you.

GC: WH4TS WRONG, L1TTL3 CR1M1N4L?  
GC: TOO 4FR41D TO TROLL M3 L1K3 YOU 4R3 SUPPOS3D TO?  
GC: 4T L34ST YOU 4R3 B31NG 4 GOOD BOY 4ND ST4Y1NG ONL1N3, 4ND M4YB3 1 W1LL R3DUC3 YOUR S3NT3NC3 4 L1TTL3 FOR TH4T, WH4T DO YOU S4Y?  
GC: UNL3SS OF COURS3 YOU 4R3 LY1NG 4BOUT B31NG ONL1N3, SHOULD 1 ST4RT F1L1NG DOWN M1SS L31JONS HORNS JUST TO M4K3 SUR3 YOU 4R3 H3R3?  
GC: COME ON, M1ST3R BOLD R3VOLUT1ON4RY!  
GC: M1ST3R "TH3 L1F3 OF 4 S1NGL3 TROLL 1S MOR3 1MPORT4NT TH4N TH3 L4W"!  
CG: I DIDN'T TELL THEM.  
CG: I WOULDN'T.  
CG: I HAVE AS MUCH TO LOSE FROM HIM GLITCHING OUT AS YOU DO.  
GC: T3LL M3 WHY 1 SHOULD B3L13V3 TH4T, M1ST3R L13B3RRY?!  
CG: DO YOU THINK YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO GIVES A FUCK ABOUT HIM??  
CG: HE'S MY FUCKING KISMESIS! WHAT GOOD IS HE TO ME AS A GODDAMN BATTERY!  
CG: AND YOU'RE THE ONE WITH ALL THE HIGH-UP FLEET CONTACTS, THE ONE MAKING HIM VULNERABLE, IT'S YOU.  
CG: AND IT'S AS MUCH YOUR FAULT AS MINE THAT HE DIDN'T BLOW HIMSELF UP AND DIE A DEATH WORTHY OF A TROLL,  
CG: SO DROP YOUR FUCKING JUSTICE BULLSHIT FOR A SECOND AND  
CG: JUST  
CG: SHUT  
CG: YOUR  
CG: MOTHERFUCKING  
CG: MOUTH  
CG: AND LET ME MOURN MY BEST FUCKING ENEMY, OKAY?  
GC: TH4T SM3LLS L1K3 TH3 TRUTH.  
GC: FOR TH3 F1RST T1M3 YOUR3 NOT LY1NG TO M3...  
CG: I'VE NEVER FUCKING LIED TO YOU, PYROPE. NOT ONCE.  
GC: YOU H4V3 N3V3R TOLD M3 YOUR N4M3 31TH3R.  
CG: NO.  
CG: YOU DON'T GET THAT.  
CG: AND I'M CALLING A FUCKING PENALTY FOR YOU TRYING TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF MY FRAGILE EMOTIONAL STATE.  
CG: IE, TONIGHT'S OFF.  
CG: I'M TAKING THIS DAY TO GRIEVE. JUST THAT. THEN WE FINISH THE GAME.  
GC: F1N3. ON3 D4Y.  
GC: 4ND TH3N YOU 4R3 M1N3, YOU TR41TOROUS P13C3 OF HUNTB34ST SH1T.

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG] \--

You're shaking when you log off, and for once, Vriska seems like a safer sleeping companion.

*****************************

One more night, and you don't think you want to spend it researching, but when you turn on your terminal, something beeps at you. Something that smells of sickness and wires and mustard.

You open the folder with shaking hands, and sniff at it gingerly, and it's only when you gag at the sudden mix of mustard and blueberry that you realise Vriska's leaning over you, and your cane snaps out reflexively.

"Oooooooow, fuck! What was _that_ for?"

"A lesson in respecting the dead!" And one for you, in not allowing yourself grief. If it had been anyone even less trustworthy... "Go away!"

She grumbles some more, but goes, and you hide the file away under a dozen passwords, like Sollux would have wanted. Mystery or no mystery, you've still got a job to do.

It's almost morning before you have a chance to open the file again, just a few hours before your rendezvous with your mystery protector, and you don't know yet what you're going to do. You know what would be the easy thing, the _right_ thing, the thing your superiors are waiting for you to do (but he'll say they're not your superiors, he'll say you're a warmblood deep down and you belong with me, he'll say they killed Sollux). But he's family, and Sollux never bothered to tell you, just like he never bothered to tell you when the scouts came for him, when the engineers on his ship began to get suspicious and he must have known, he _must_ have, he was the cleverest troll you knew and now he's nothing but meat and code and raw crackling power, and you'll never forgive them, ever, and when you open the file you find he's saved you one last time.

He's sent you a fairytale.

A fairytale that must have bled straight into your dreams.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC] \--

CG: SEE THAT LONG-ORBIT ASTEROID ON YOUR NINE? I'LL MEET YOU ON THE FAR SIDE.  
CG: AND IF YOU FORGET TO BRING NEPETA, I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC] \--

He's gone before you have a chance to reply, but it doesn't matter now. Nothing matters except Sollux's last message, a tale as fascinating as it was disturbing, and even Vriska's barbs seem somehow welcome knowing what's to come.

*****************************

He doesn't look as dignified as you expected, huddled against the strut of his small ship (Imperial surplus, you note from the bright red fork painted on the side that someone's clumsily coloured over the tines of to try to turn it into a spoon for gods know what reason, and all of it smells battered and stripped, hell of a thing to fly on his own), and probably he'd struggle to look dignified even being presented to the Empress, with his nubby horns and scrawny frame and blunt buckfangs. But that's alright, you have plenty of time to tidy him up, and you're certainly looking forward to it, washing away that dirt to make the blood stand out against his skin, the blood you can't wait to smell, but you could, you think, you could stalk up to him now and press your lips against that bare neck and rip him open and make him beg you not to stop, but his cheeks are light where he's scrubbed away his tears, and Vriska's right behind you, and Sollux would want you to play fair.

He scrambles to his feet when he sees you, visibly struggling with his composure, and when he spots Vriska behind you, he abandons that fight altogether. "You didn't say you were bringing a goddamn psychic! Get her the fuck out of here!"

"Oh, don't worry, Mister Tigerfruit, she's not playing! But your lovely matesprit may need some help getting out of the shuttle, and you'd like her to be able to be walk onto your ship, don't you...?" Not that she's going to do anything of the sort, and you try your hardest not to laugh as he scowls.

"Fine. Let's just get this retarded guessing game over with so you can let us go."

Oh, why bother not laughing? The little fool's even come alone, as though he _trusts_ you! You let out a snicker as you stalk towards him, sniffing for a flinch, and are pleased when you don't get one. "Very well! I have done a lot of reading and I think that I can work it out! Is your colour, then..." You pause as if to think, then reel off a brown code that you already know he's not. Brown is brown is brown, doesn't smell like the colour in Sollux's tale, bright and hot and sharp like the sun.

"No!" His voice is scornful, on the verge of laughter himself, and you know why. You never would have guessed it, never would have found it in the records, the tale's been erased for a half-million sweeps for all you know, and where Sollux found it you will never ever know.

Another code, this time rust, met with another savagely gleeful Pupa Pan-ish reply that does lovely, horrible things to your column and you shouldn't feel reluctant to break this boy, the boy your moirail died to catch for you. The last gift he'll ever give you.

A third code, lime, and this time he does laugh at you. "Wow, you just can't leave that barrel alone, can you, Terezi, you're so far down you're hitting goddamn rock. Just give up and give me Nepeta, you know you're never going to fucking get it."

"Well then I guess we are done and I will go get Miss Leijon!" The lie comes easy, too easy, slicing your lips as it takes flight but they're already scarred enough that it doesn't matter, and you delight in the smell of his consternation as you bow to him, hands spread. He didn't expect you to give up, doesn't know his next move, and what was his plan, you wonder, coming here alone with no hope of walking away. You turn away, tossing the final words over your shoulder as you take two practised steps towards the shuttle. "But we must do this again, Mister Vantas!"

Your foot hits rock, hard, as you stop to smell his hope die.

"Wh-what???"

His words are choked, wavering, and you hear no footsteps. _He's not running._ (You knew he wouldn't. He's a fairytale monster after all, a fey creature built of sunlight and promises and mercy, and his word binds him faster than web and rope ever could.)

"I think I will be keeping Miss Spinach Salad after all, Mister Lime Soda! Or should I say, Mister Cherry Cough Syrup!" His gasp is the sweetest thing you've yet heard come out of his mouth, and oh, you have to keep him alive so you can get more of that. "Or should I further say, Mister Karkat Vantas, the Second Signless..." He lets out a cry, feet scuffling in the dust as he stumbles backwards, caught between his word and his fear, and you hold your breath as you hear him land heavily and not move. You've _got_ him, and you take a moment to enjoy the sudden sharp stink of his terror, before you spread your hands and pronounce, "...code eff eff zero zero zero zero!"

His reply hovers awkwardly between a howl and a whisper, a butterfly caught between the green moon and a candle, "Where the _fuck_ did you hear that?"

"Come here." You ignore the question, simply point to the rock before your feet, and wait. A few seconds later, his warmth passes by you, so hot you'd take him for feverish even if he were rust, but for a mutant like him, who knows, and his breath is ragged as he stands shaking before you, still demanding:

" _Who told you?_ "

His eyes are wide, all despairing yellow and terrified grey and none of the deliciously fierce red you hoped for (you make a note to check for contacts), and you could almost pity him, if you didn't hate him so, for killing - worse-than-killing - your true love, for trying to drive a wedge between you and justice, for mocking you with the miracle-talk you hated so much in training, and in the end you can't resist the bite after all, can't resist lapping up the blood streaming scarlet over his cheek, hot and stinging and the most delicious thing you've ever tasted, and he howls as you give in and drag him to the dust, "FUCK FUCK FUCK PYROPE YOU LUNATIC I FUCKING HATE YOU," a bright scarlet mantra that leaves you ecstatic for a few precious seconds before Vriska's sharp hiss and the vicious pull of her mind on yours breaks the spell, and you let her take your arm and pull you away, shaken. He wasn't supposed to make you vulnerable.

You wait for him to calm too before you pull him up to sit between you, and he says shakily, "What now?" and you know what he expects.

"Trial," you say, and smell him blanch. "Death," and Vriska shifts uncomfortably beside you and you think, he doesn't just make you weak, he makes her strong. He balances you. "That's if I take you back."

He laughs harshly. "Is that even a question? You know what I am."

"Mm. You're unique. A mystery. A conundrum whose words make no more sense than his blood, and... and I don't like killing things that are one-of-a-kind."

"Oh my god!" Vriska interrupts. "You told me your speech was a good one, Pyrope, this is totally fucking lame!" You're not prepared for her foot in your side, shoving you away from your prey, and she leans in to stage-whisper conspiratorially to him as you try to recover your balance on the dusty rock. "The truth is, she's been going on and on and on about you _forever_ , it's soooooooo boring, she could no more kill you than she could kill me or, or a, a baby justice... thing..."

"Baby justice thing? Vriska, that is so dumb I can't even -"

"Shut up! You're so boring when you go on your dumb law spiels it's not my fault my aural flaps turn off -"

"OH MY GOD, BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!" She looks back at him, and you sniff the air, both startled by the edge in his voice. "Please tell me all your prisoner exchanges don't turn into midnight fucking soap operas!"

"No, but they -"

"I. Said. _Shut the fuck up._ "

Vriska rolls her eye dramatically and pouts, and you let out a quiet "hm", and pull him over into your lap, and he scowls.

"You do realise I can't keep -"

"Ssh," you order, and he obeys, with another shiver of fear. "I have been thinking..." You close your eyes and listen to the dark, soaking in his fey warmth. You knew you'd have to go, sooner or later, but without Sollux, you don't want to. "I think that perhaps I won't kill you. I am still _angry_ , don't think I'm not, but... I have known for a long time that the Empire is dying. From Sollux, from my lusus, from Gamzee," you cover his mouth when he jolts at the name, that conversation's for later, "even from you! And I thought I knew what I would do when the time came... but now it has come and everything I fought for is gone."

"Told you you'd let him go," Vriska snorts, and you shush her too, and she grumbles something about checking on the prisoner and gets up to go back to the shuttle, but not before Carcino - _Karkat_ \- gives you both a faint echo of a smile.

You wait as he considers your words, watching the star above you burn up its fuel, millions of tonnes of hydrogen a second turned into radiation that means nothing to you anymore but a shadow of warmth in the asteroid's thin air, and says, "I really didn't turn him in."

"I know." You release the breath you were holding, savouring the brightness of his sincerity as it leaves your tongue, and reach over to take his hand in yours. "I have a plan to get him back."

"And as usual you need my help to keep your skinny blue arse out of the fire, right? Let Nepeta go and I'll do it."

You think of olive Leijon, cracked and bleeding and stubborn, of cerulean Vriska, impulsive and dramatic and discontent, and wonder how long you can go on rushing into bargains, and if there was really ever any difference between blue and green.

You twine your fingers into his, and answer, "I'll consider it."


End file.
